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me。〃
〃Deal？ What about？〃
〃About your red hoss。〃
〃Wildfire！ 。 。 。 No deals； Bostil；〃 returned Slone； and made as if to pass
him。
The big hand that forced Slone back was far from gentle； and again he felt the
quick rush of blood。
〃Mebbe I can tell you somethin' thet'll make you sell Wildfire；〃 said Bostil。
〃Not if you talked yourself dumb！〃 flashed Slone。 There was no use to try to
keep cool with this Bostil； if he talked horses。 〃I'll race Wildfire against
the King。 But no more。〃
〃Race！ Wal； we don't run races around here without stakes；〃 replied Bostil；
with deep scorn。 〃An' what can you bet？ Thet little dab of prize money is
gone； an' wouldn't be enough to meet me。 You're a strange one in these parts。
I've pride an' reputation to uphold。 You brag of racin' with mean' you a
beggarly rider！ 。 。 。 You wouldn't have them clothes an' boots if my girl
hadn't fetched them to you。〃
The riders behind Bostil laughed。 Wetherby's face was there in the door； not
amused； but hard with scorn and something else。 Slone felt a sickening；
terrible gust of passion。 It fairly shook him。 And as the wave subsided the
quick cooling of skin and body pained him like a burn made with ice。
〃Yes； Bostil； I'm what you say；〃 responded Slone； and his voice seemed to fill
his ears。 〃But you're dead wrong when you say I've nothin' to bet on a race。〃
〃An' what'll you bet？〃
〃My life an' my horse！〃
The riders suddenly grew silent and intense。 Bostil vibrated to that。 He
turned white。 He more than any rider on the uplands must have felt the nature
of that offer。
〃Ag'in what？〃 he demanded； hoarsely。
〃YOUR DAUGHTER LUCY！〃
One instant the surprise held Bostil mute and motionless。 Then he seemed to
expand。 His huge bulk jerked into motion and he bellowed like a mad bull。
Slone saw the blow coming； made no move to avoid it。 The big fist took him
square on the mouth and chin and laid him flat on the ground。 Sight failed
Slone for a little； and likewise ability to move。 But he did not lose
consciousness。 His head seemed to have been burst into rays and red mist that
blurred his eyes。 Then these cleared away； leaving intense pain。 He started to
get up； his brain in a whirl。 Where was his gun？ He had left it at home。 But
for that he would have killed Bostil。 He had already killed one man。 The thing
was a burning flashthen all over！ He could do it again。 But Bostil was
Lucy's father！
Slone gathered up the packages of supplies； and without looking at the men he
hurried away。 He seemed possessed of a fury to turn and run back。 Some force；
like an invisible hand； withheld him。 When he reached the cabin he shut
himself in； and lay on his bunk； forgetting that the place did not belong to
him； alive only to the mystery of his trouble； smarting with the shame of the
assault upon him。 It was dark before he composed himself and went out； and
then he had not the desire to eat。 He made no move to open the supplies of
food； did not even make a light。 But he went out to take grass and water to
the horses。 When he returned to the cabin a man was standing at the porch。
Slone recognized Holley's shape and then his voice。
〃Son； you raised the devil to…day。〃
〃Holley； don't you go back on me！〃 cried Slone。 〃I was driven！〃
〃Don't talk so loud；〃 whispered the rider in return。 〃I've only a minnit。 。 。
。 Herea letter from Lucy。 。 。 。 An'； son； don't git the idee thet I'll go
back on you。〃
Slone took the letter with trembling fingers。 All the fury and gloom instantly
fled。 Lucy had written him！ He could not speak。
〃Son； I'm double…crossin' the boss； right this minnit！〃 whispered Holley；
hoarsely。 〃An' the same time I'm playin' Lucy's game。 If Bostil finds out
he'll kill me。 I mustn't be ketched up here。 But I won't lose track of
youwherever you go。〃
Holley slipped away stealthily in the dusk； leaving Slone with a throbbing
heart。
〃Wherever you go！〃 he echoed。 〃Ah！ I forgot！ I can't stay here。〃
Lucy's letter made his fingers tinglemade them so hasty and awkward that he
had difficulty in kindling blaze enough to see to read。 The letter was short；
written in lead…pencil on the torn leaf of a ledger。 Slone could not read
rapidlythose years on the desert had seen to thatand his haste to learn
what Lucy said bewildered him。 At first all the words blurred：
Come at once to the bench in the cottonwoods。 I'll meet you there。 My heart
is breaking。 It's a liea liewhat they say。 I'll swear you were with me
the night the boat was cut adrift。 I KNOW you didn't do that。 I know who。 。 。
。 Oh； come！ I will stick to you。 I will run off with you。 I love you！〃
CHAPTER XV
Slone's heart leaped to his throat； and its beating choked his utterances of
rapture and amaze and dread。 But rapture dominated the other emotions。 He
could scarcely control the impulse to run to meet Lucy； without a single
cautious thought。
He put the precious letter inside his blouse； where it seemed to warm his
breast。 He buckled on his gun…belt； and； extinguishing the light； he hurried
out。
A crescent moon had just tipped the bluff。 The village lanes and cabins and
trees lay silver in the moon…light。 A lonesome coyote barked in the distance。
All else was still。 The air was cool； sweet； fragrant。 There appeared to be a
glamour of light； of silence； of beauty over the desert。
Slone kept under the dark lee of the bluff and worked around so that he could
be above the village； where there was little danger of meeting any one。 Yet
presently he had to go out of the shadow into the moon…blanched lane。 Swift
and silent as an Indian he went along； keeping in the shade of what trees
there were； until he came to the grove of cottonwoods。 The grove was a black
mystery lanced by silver rays。 He slipped in among the trees； halting every
few steps to listen。 The action； the realization had helped to make him cool；
to steel him； though never before in his life had he been so exalted。 The
pursuit and capture of Wildfire； at one time the desire of his heart； were as
nothing to this。 Love had called himand lifeand he knew death hung in the
balance。 If Bostil found him seeking Lucy there would be blood spilled。 Slone
quaked at the thought； for the cold and ghastly oppression following the death
he had meted out to Sears came to him at times。 But such thoughts were
fleeting； only one thought really held his mindand the one was that Lucy
loved him； had sent strange； wild； passionate words to him。
He found the narrow path； its white crossed by slowly moving black bars of
shadow； and stealthily he followed this； keen of eye and ear； stopping at
every rustle。 He well knew the bench Lucy had mentioned。 It was in a remote
corner of the grove； under big trees near the spring。 Once Slone thought he
had a glimpse of white。 Perhaps it was only moonlight。 He slipped on and on；
and when beyond the branching paths that led toward the house he breathed
freer。 The grove appeared deserted。 At last he crossed the runway from the
spring； smelled the cool； wet moss and watercress； and saw the big cottonwood；
looming dark above the other trees。 A patch of moonlight brightened a little
glade just at the edge of dense shade cast by the cottonwood。 Here the bench
stood。 It was empty！
Slone's rapture vanished。 He was suddenly chilled。 She was not there！ She
might have been intercepted。 He would not see her。 The disappointment； the
sudden relaxation； was horrible。 Then a white； slender shape flashed from
beside the black tree…trunk and flew toward him。 It was noiseless； like a
specter； and swift as the wind。 Was he dreaming？ He felt so strange。 Thenthe
white shape reached him and he knew。
Lucy leaped into his arms。
〃Lin！ Lin！ Oh； I'm soso glad to see you！〃 she whispered。 She seemed
breathless； keen； new to him； not in the least afraid nor shy。 Slone could
only hold her。 He could not have spoken； even if she had given him a chance。
〃I know everythingwhat they accuse you ofhow the riders treated youhow
my dad struck you。 Oh！ 。 。 。 He's a brute！ I hate him for that。 Why didn't you
keep out of his way？ 。 。 。 Van saw it all。 Oh； I hate him； too！ He said you
lay stillwhere you fell！ 。 。 。 Dear Lin； that blow may have hurt you
dreadfullyshamed you because you couldn't strike back at my dadbut it
reached me； too。 It hurt me。 It woke my heart。 。 。 。 Wherewhere did he hit
you？ Oh； I've seen him hit men！ His terrible fists！〃
〃Lucy； never mind；〃 whispered Slone。 〃I'd stood to be shot just for this。〃
He felt her hands softly on his face； feeling around tenderly till they found
the swollen bruise on mouth and chin。
〃Ah！ 。 。 。 He struck you。 And II'll kiss you；〃 she whispered。 〃If kisses
will make it wellit'll be well！〃
She seemed strange； wild； passionate in her tenderness。 She lifted her face
and kissed him softly again and again and again； till the touch that had been
exquisitely painful to his bruised lips became rapture。 Then she leaned back
in his arms； her hands on his shoulders； white…faced； dark…eyed； and laughed
up in his face； lovingly； daringly； as if she defied the world to change what
she had done。
〃Lucy！ Lucy！ 。 。 。 He can beat meagain！〃 said Slone； low and hoarsely。
〃If you l